


What Happens on the Long Night Road

by 3RatMoon



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Relationship(s), Religion, Road Trips, Troubled Men of God Being Vulnerable and Sweet to Each Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 20:18:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11112087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3RatMoon/pseuds/3RatMoon
Summary: Hadrian blustered the first time Alyosha proposed that they sleep together.





	What Happens on the Long Night Road

**Author's Note:**

> (aka Alyosha and Hadrian go on a trip and accidentally create their own Lack House. And then bang.)
> 
> Have fun and thanks for the support on Twitter! I haven't written for fun in a long time and this was a joy.

Hadrian blustered the first time Alyosha proposed that they sleep together.

 

It was only the two of them on this trip. The other half of the group, consisting of the snow elf Throndir, the Ordennan warrior Hella, and the map-maker Adaire, were taking a different route to the tower, sweeping past an anomaly in the forest they suspected may be related to the Cult of the Dark Sun. Hadrian and Alyosha would go ahead and clear any threats outside the tower, then hold down camp until the other three arrived. 

 

With time on their hands and as much privacy as could be provided by this dense forest bathed in the darkness of the Sunless months, Alyosha was comfortable making the offer to his companion on the road. However, said companion did not have the same state of ease around casual intimacy, it seemed.

 

_“Why?”_ Hadrian finally managed.  

 

Alyosha smiled, despite the strong reaction from the Paladin. “Because you are attractive and we have a bond as men of Samothes? It’s hardly uncommon for soldiers to warm each other’s beds when away from home.”

 

Alyosha understood, of course. He also grew up in a small village, unable to explore much of anything other than the rice fields and his own thoughts. The difference between them seems to be that Hadrian found a longterm partner early on, whereas the Northern Exarch has had many types of relationships but mostly liked his own company best.

 

Still, Alyosha was fond of Hadrian. He was soft-spoken for his station, but his words always had a kind of weight to them. It reflected well the way he took nothing lightly, be it kindness, judgement, nor, it seemed, his desires.

 

It was admirable, but Alyosha worried about the way Hadrian’s shoulders sunk forward when he was sitting, like he was trying, subconsciously, to hide all of the vulnerable parts of him. 

 

Alyosha did not push the topic, instead briefly discussing their plans for the next day’s travel before excusing himself. Hadrian watched him stand, and his gaze felt like it had his entire body behind it. In a moment of fondness, the priest reached a hand out to his face.

 

His skin was soft underneath the roughness of stubble, and dark, even against Alyosha’s hand.

 

Hadrian diverted his eyes. Alyosha drew back, said goodnight, and turned away.

 

 

 

Conversation found its way to letters about a couple days into the forest. Alyosha had the impression (formed from multiple comments by members of the church he had stayed with over the years) that writing letters as a hobby instead of just a matter of business or keeping in touch with extended family, was strange. But when he asked to detour a moment to drop a letter with a courier at the last town, Hadrian not only noticed, but brought it up what must have been days later.

 

It turned out that they were both the corresponding type. Perhaps it was that they both traveled often, Alyosha spreading word of Samothes and Hadrian carrying out His Law. Hadrian wrote most to his wife and son, of course, but he had made friends over the years as well. Hadrian brandished half-finished letters to them, grinning shyly. He even read them aloud, with a “That sounds alright, yeah?” tacked on the end, like he was asking for feedback on an essay. 

 

Alyosha must have made a face, because Hadrian’s expression dropped, and suddenly he was asking if _he_ was alright.

 

“I’m sorry,” Alyosha responded eventually, “It just sparked a memory is all.”

 

Still, conversation seemed to open up after that. Instead of treading over topics of theology that Alyosha could tell Hadrian wasn’t entirely engaged with, Hadrian explained events referenced in his letters. That quickly led to other things, and soon the Paladin was retelling whole arcs in his life and how they related to the people he knew.

 

Alyosha vaguely knew some of them, of course, as he had met all of those involved in investigating the towers when he was in Rosemerrow, before they split apart once more. He could remember the elf who hailed from the Mark of the Erasure, the Archivist musician with the wary smile, and the Ordennan, of course. Hella.

 

She was one of the ones Hadrian wrote to the most, and he fretted over every word. Alyosha had felt uneasy around her in Rosemerrow, but didn’t feel the need to mention it; the careful way Hadrian explained that she was on a difficult path gave him the impression that the Paladin was already all too aware.

 

Ultimately, Hella’s bond with Hadrian was very different from Alyosha’s. Theirs was a warrior’s bond, one of blood and steel. When a group of bandits attacked Hadrian and Alyosha, the Paladin cut them down without a second thought after they ignored his command to stand down. Alyosha simply watched, and as Hadrian cleaned his blade in the quiet after that brief skirmish, there was a look on his face that the Exarch couldn’t place.

 

Alyosha suspected that look would be one that Hella could understand.

 

“I don’t think I’ve talked this much on a mission before,” Hadrian admitted one night as they sat around a small fire together. It had been a few cycles of the moons since they last felt it was safe enough to light one, and spirits were high. Hadrian was clearly exhausted, but he stayed up talking to Alyosha about his latest letter to his wife. The Paladin didn’t mention the night on the hilltop, but it lingered behind his words as he lavished praises on Rosana.

 

“I really think you’d like her,” he said, twiddling with a loose string on his shirt, “She really enjoys history and theory around the Creed, but also knows how Samothes fits into the lives of everyday people. I always told her she would be welcomed in the Priesthood, but she says she wants to be able to put theory on the shelf and leave it be when she wants to, rather than living in it all the time. I think she would really enjoy talking to someone with kind of the same way of thinking.”

 

The look on Hadrian’s face, all soft around the edges with the beginnings of crows feet at his eyes, was the kind of look Alyosha understood, so different from the one he wore in battle. There, his expression was like a mask, almost an extension of his armor.

 

Alyosha preferred this side of Hadrian to the other.

 

“Well, my duty requires travel across the North of Hieron, but it does not specify a path,” Alyosha offered, a bit irresponsibly. Still, it was worth the way Hadrian smiled, the shadows of his dimples deepened by the light of the fire.

 

“Please, you’d be welcome in our home any time,” the Paladin insisted, “I don’t cook much, but I could probably get a duck from the market, and you could talk to Rosana about your theories around Sacred magic, and show us your collections from your travels, and… and maybe your stories about when you first left to study at the University would be comforting.” 

 

Hadrian’s gaze was suddenly very far away. “I’m used to being away from home, but Rosana has lived in Velas her whole life. I… I’m not…”

 

Alyosha reached up, cupping his hand against Hadrian’s cheek. It seemed to be the one small intimacy that the Paladin allowed, and Alyosha gave it freely. Hadrian closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into the touch with a soft but heavy sigh. He looked so tired.

 

Then he looked at Alyosha, and his eyes were so dark and bright, like burning hot coals. The Exarch felt his stomach tighten. Hadrian turned his head just so slightly, and pressed a kiss to Alyosha’s palm. His breath caught in his throat.

 

But then Hadrian suddenly turned away, a mumbled “Sorry,” pressed from him as he stood in a rush to go to his bag.

 

Alyosha was completely still for just a moment before the wave of disappointment broke the spell. He sighed a laugh. “You don’t need to apologize. I only wish you were as eager to speak of your troubles as you are your joys.” 

 

Hadrian glanced guiltily over this shoulder, and Alyosha gave a proper audible sigh this time. 

 

“It is not my place to press from you what you won’t willingly give,” he said, “I just…” 

 

He swallowed. “…You bring light wherever you go, Hadrian. Not simply His Light as it is reflected in your blade, but as you labour for a better world.” 

 

Alyosha looked up as he continued, and Hadrian was watching him, his bedroll forgotten in his hands. “You… seem to be taking on tasks of the mind that not even generations of Prelates and Exarchs have completed, and I want you to know that struggling with them does not diminish your value. Not to Him, I imagine not to Rosana, and certainly not to me.”

 

Hadrian looked embarrassed, like there was a jest that everyone understood except for him. “And… you want to express that to me by sleeping with me?”

 

Alyosha laughed a little. “It does seem strange when you say it that way. It doesn’t have to be that way, but I suppose my opinion is, that is generally what people who have sex are doing most of the time, anyway.”

 

Hadrian gazed into the light of the fire for a long time, like he was trying to divine the Will of Samothes from it.

 

“Go to sleep,” Alyosha offered eventually, “We can afford to rest until Del has set, I think.”

 

 

 

 

The next “day’s” travel was almost more quiet than when they first started together. Regret ached in Alyosha’s stomach. He shouldn’t have persisted. Intimacy of whatever kind helped many weather the threats on their path, but fallout from it could easily endanger them.

 

He tried to remember that Samothes Himself had made such mistakes, but it took cycling the verses in his head for most of their march for it to calm him. 

 

Hadrian, however, seemed to have turned off the part of him that was capable of being troubled, focused entirely on the road ahead. His shoulders were rolled back, made even more broad by his armour. He was like a ship, cutting through the forest like it was water.

 

Alyosha wished, distantly, that he had the confidence and drive Hadrian did.

 

Hadrian did not lose velocity even as they chose their site and began to set up camp for the night. Alyosha watched from his seat on the ground as the Paladin bustled to and fro, pausing only a moment at a time. He hadn’t even taken off his armour, which made his steps sound like thunder in the relative quiet.

 

“Hadrian,” Alyosha called after him.

 

Hadrian gave the barest glance over his shoulder before he turned back to gathering more wood for the small fire he had started. “Yeah?”

 

Alyosha didn’t know what to say. Hadrian returned to his work.

 

It had been an hour, and the Paladin had cleared the site, stoked the fire, checked their supplies, double checked their route, and started water to boil from some of the clean snow nearby. He picked out some of the bread in his rations, but instead of sitting to eat, he immediately sprang up again, striding off to check the perimeter of their camp for what must have been the fifth time.

 

Alyosha _knew_ this behaviour, he realized with the tale-tell rush of blood to his face. He knew this, and he _hated_ it. The business. The avoidance. The total ignorance masked as control. He had known it for decades unresolved, bonds collapsing like a house with dry rot and he would _not_ –

 

_“Hadrian,”_ he snapped.

 

Hadrian froze, slowly turning to face the Exarch. Alyosha doesn’t think the man has ever heard him raise his voice before.

 

They stared at each other for a moment in the eerie silence created by the snow that dampened sound and the cold darkness that drove the wildlife away.

 

Alyosha let out a careful breath, and asked, softly, “What’s wrong?”

 

A number of expressions crossed Hadrian’s face. “I…”

 

There was a hiss as the pot of water boiled over and into the fire. Alyosha leapt to quiet it, nearly burning his hands in the process. Hadrian watched, still half-frozen, a hand outstretched in an aborted attempt to help.

 

Their eyes met again, and Hadrian’s shoulders sagged suddenly. He walked to Alyosha’s side and sat down, starting to unbuckle his bracers.

 

“Last night… you said that my struggles did not diminish my worth,” he started slowly, “You’re very kind Alyosha, but I’m afraid you give me too much credit.”

 

 

He placed his bracers on the ground carefully, then reached up and unclasped his cloak. It was one of the more striking things about Hadrian that Alyosha had noticed when they first met. Silvery white, even in the orange light of the fire, it had a mesmerizing weave that made it look almost like fur at certain angles. When Hadrian held it out to the Exarch, he was shocked to find that it _felt_ like fur as well.

 

“Do you know how I got this cloak?” Hadrian asked.

 

Alyosha looked up. “You said you found it at Samot’s fallen tower in the Mark of the Erasure.”

 

The corners of Hadrian’s mouth turned up, but it wasn’t really a smile. “That is only half-true, really.”

 

Hadrian restarted the story the way Alyosha had heard it before, with the tower that held other worlds inside of it. Of losing his companions, then finding them, then returning to camp only to find the Archivist– a different one from the one the Exarch met before– had been taken by a man with a rank of marble soldiers who claimed to be a Sword of Samot.

 

“What I didn’t tell you is, when we went to confront him again and rescue Uklan Tel… I died.”

 

Alyosha blinked.

 

“I was fighting him and I… I don't know, I just wasn’t fast enough, I guess.” Hadrian breathed out shakily. Alyosha wanted to reach out to him, to steady him, but he wasn’t sure it was the right time.

 

“And then I was in a room, and Samot was there. He said that I could live, if I made sure to think over what happens next. That I… keep an open mind.” Hadrian looked down at the cloak, stroking it absent-mindedly. “He gave me this, and when I woke up I still had it, so I know it was real.”

 

Hadrian met eyes with Alyosha, almost pleading. “Ever since that first tower, the one with that _book_ , and Samot’s crown and mask, I… I don’t know what happened. I have tried to do His Will, but it always turns out wrong somehow. And I have prayed, and He has never answered. But Samot has. And my friends have.” The Paladin scowled, though at what Alyosha couldn’t tell. “I have stayed faithful. I have never strayed from my mission. But I am… angry. At Him.”

 

He scoffed and threw up his hands, then let them fall into his lap again. His sigh was deep. “It all sounds so stupid when I say it out loud.”

 

Alyosha found now to be the appropriate time to reach for Hadrian’s hand, and Hadrian let him, aiming a tired half-smile in his direction. “So, any wisdom about how this happens to people all the time and everything will be okay?” he asked.

 

Alyosha chuckled. “I certainly wish so. But that would be dishonest of me.”

 

Hadrian sighed, but didn’t look dissatisfied by the answer. He circled the loose skin around Alyosha’s knuckles with the pad of his thumb. Their hands were so different; Alyosha with long fingers and thin, aging skin, and then Hadrian’s, broad and calloused and dry.

 

“I’m glad you were able to tell me about your troubles,” Alyosha began again, “I… know it can be tempting to keep to yourself, to devote all of your attention to our Lord, while forgetting our own nature.”

 

The Exarch smiled at Hadrian’s confused look. “We are like all other creatures on Hieron. We need food, rest, and as particularly social beings, we also need companionship. As we try not to fast needlessly or work to exhaustion, we cannot pretend we can move through this life alone.”

 

Hadrian laughed, but it was genuine. “Says the man who’s basically a wandering hermit priest!”

 

“Why do you think I write so many letters?” Alyosha responded coyly.

 

Hadrian smiled back. “Fair.”

 

There was a moment in which they simply looked at each other. Some of the warmth was back in Hadrian’s face at last. He looked down to where their hands met.

 

“Well? What about you, then?” he asked.

 

Alyosha frowned. “What about me?”

 

“Yeah, what’s been troubling you?”

 

The priest nodded and sighed. It seemed fair, after Hadrian’s own confession.

 

“I suppose… I am afraid. There is so much that has happened these past months. The people are terrified, and to be honest, so am I. But I am needed wherever I go, for words of comfort and courage. I have few to confide in, especially…”

 

Alyosha rubbed his forehead. “…Especially since I started losing Arrell.”

 

The Exarch could see the tension in Hadrian’s jaw out of the corner of his eye. “I am sorry he deceived you and your friends with Phantasmo,” he added, “I understand that it is one thing to lose someone slowly to their own obsessions, and one to be told that they never existed at all.”

 

Hadrian throat clicked when he swallowed. “It’s okay. You can keep going.”

 

Alyosha nodded, eyes distant, “I have known Arrell since I was a young man studying at the University along with other priestlings, and I was one of the few he kept contact with after he withdrew. We were lovers for a while, but beyond that, he was… perhaps the most constant person in my life, aside from our Lord.

 

“I rarely confide in him now, nor he in me. Should it be necessary, his letters may be useful in understanding how he takes people away, but that is of little worth to me personally.” 

 

Alyosha spat the last part with more vehemence than he expected. His face was hot, and his hand shook when he placed it against his mouth to keep any sound escaping from his tight throat. He closed his eyes against the tears, out of embarrassment more than anything. He thought he was _done_ with this, but there he was, crying over that fool like not a day had passed.

 

“Perhaps, now that my seat in his plan is occupied… this part of me can at last rest in peace,” he finished, his voice trembling.

 

Alyosha took a few shaky breaths, wiping away the couple tears that had fallen. But then he found himself enclosed by Hadrian’s arms, a circle of heat almost stronger than the fire at their feet. Alyosha’s head came to rest in the crook where Hadrian’s pauldrons met his breastplate, and he could hear the Paladin’s soft chuckle reverberate through his armour.

 

“You’re kind of bad at taking your own advice, you know,” he said.

 

This pulled a laugh from Alyosha, though through the phlegm in his throat, it sounded like a sob.

 

“It’s true,” he croaked, “I really am quite dreadful at it.”

 

“It’s okay,” Hadrian replied, almost inaudibly, “I am, too.”

 

There was a long silence after that, Hadrian with his arms around Alyosha, Alyosha resting his head on Hadrian’s shoulder, his breathing slowly calming down. It was late, even for the sunless time they were currently in; the smaller moon, Bri, was just peeking over the tops of the bare trees above.

 

Alyosha cleared his throat, trying to hide a small smile. “I appreciate the gesture, Paladin, but your amor is digging into my side.”

 

“Oh!” Hadrian pulled away with such a startle that the Exarch couldn’t help but laugh.

 

“Here, let me help,” he said.

 

Hadrian let Alyosha help with the many straps that held his armour together, the pauldrons releasing from his shoulders and the breastplate breaking into its two halves so it could be lifted up over his head. The heavy steel shells made a dull, hollow sound as they hit the ground.

 

Hadrian groaned and stretched his freed torso, rolling his shoulders. But then, his eyes locked with Alyosha’s and he stilled suddenly. Alyosha looked back, noticing the way the Paladin’s hand grasped subconsciously for the cloak where it was trapped between their thighs. The fire glowed in his eyes like embers, and Alyosha felt drawn into them. Did he lean forward? He wasn’t sure, but he heard as Hadrian took a quiet breath and leaned in the rest of the way.

 

Alyosha sighed into the kiss, the tingling in his face caused by the rush of pleasure instead of a wave of anger, this time. Hadrian seemed to melt a little, too, his body pressing closer as he went in for a second kiss, then a third. Alyosha shifted to face him fully, resting his hands on Hadrian’s hips. Hadrian’s arms wrapped around him with ease, encasing him in the other man’s warmth, stronger and more comfortable than the fire.

 

Alyosha trailed a hand up Hadrian’s back, tracing the outlines of muscle underneath cloth and skin. Hadrian ran his fingers through Alyosha’s long, grey hair. Their breaths were irregular, but rhythmic, like the lap of waves on the shore of a lake. Hadrian made a low noise in his throat and turned his head to press several kisses under Alyosha’s jaw and down his neck.

 

Given to passion, the Exarch moved to straddle Hadrian’s hips. The Paladin’s dazed look and the shiny reflection of his lips made Alyosha smile, and he resumed kissing him in earnest.

 

They ground their hips together, breaths harsher and kisses messier. Alyosha’s vestments were riding up his legs, and his collar was askew from Hadrian’s search for more of his skin. Alyosha felt like a fire was roaring inside of him in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. He rode against the bulge where he could feel Hadrian’s erection ruthlessly; he couldn’t get enough of the sound of his gasps in his ear.

 

Hadrian pushed Alyosha back off his lap, but kept his hands on the priest’s thighs. “I… I don’t want to end this just rutting on you like a teenager,” he said, low and breathy. He grinned sheepishly, his cheeks carrying a deep crimson tint.

 

“Well,” Alyosha smiled back, almost impish, “Allow me to finish you properly, then.”

 

After that was a few minutes in which the two of them rushed to make space to lay out their bedrolls while simultaneously undressing each other, exchanging touches and kisses frequently. Some of their belongings did get dropped in the snow in the process, but it mattered little to Alyosha once he had Hadrian sprawled out on the mats, his cock in his mouth.

 

Hadrian made soft, low sounds as he squirmed under Alyosha’s ministrations. The Paladin’s smell was heady, and his hands set Alyosha’s skin alight wherever they went. Towards the end, as Hadrian lost himself, he mostly hung onto the priest’s hair, soft tarnished silver threaded between his fingers.

 

Hadrian gave a choked cry when he came, and Alyosha relished in the sound and the feeling of his body under his hands as the man spilt his seed, hot and bitter, into his mouth. The priest only had a moment to turn and spit into the snow before Hadrian had him on his back, kissing his lips, then the hollow of his shoulder, then his sternum.

 

Alyosha laughed. “I promise you can rest a moment if you need to.”

 

Hadrian smiled shyly into Alyosha’s stomach. “No, I’m fine. I just, uh…”

 

Alyosha smiled back, running his hand over Hadrian’s close-cropped hair and across his shoulder, drawing a shiver from the Paladin. “I can guide you as needed, don’t worry.”

 

Hadrian was, of course, an excellent student. Alyosha’s only instructions were the occasional yes-there or more-of-that before he was eventually rendered speechless. He could see his breath in the air, but all of him felt hot. For a few moments, Hadrian was not Samothes’s sword but his hammer, and Alyosha felt like iron being shaped into something new. He barely made a sound, but his ears were ringing with pleasure.

 

Just before Alyosha found release, he suddenly remembered that Hadrian hadn’t been with a man in this way before, and he took both hands to the man’s face and pushed him off his cock. The sensation was overwhelming, and Alyosha made a garbled, unintelligible sound as orgasm racked his body.

 

When he opened his eyes, Hadrian was looking at him, slack-jawed with awe but also confused, strings of white slowly dripping down his dark face.

 

“Oh!” Alyosha sat up, unconsciously covering his smile of both delight and embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, I realized you likely didn’t want to… and I… oh heavens, let me help you clean up.”

 

Somewhere in the middle of Alyosha finding a rag and using it and some of the snow to help Hadrian clean his face, the Paladin started laughing. He was helpless to it, laughing like it was a release of days and months of joys and pains alike. He laughed as he took the rag from Alyosha and finishing wiping off his face, and kept laughing even as he laid back down on their hastily joined bedrolls.

 

Alyosha chuckled as the man caught his breath, covering the both of them so as to keep the heat in. It had only been a few minutes, but he was already feeling the chill seep into his core. “Are you alright?”

 

Hadrian’s smile was brilliant in the night. “Oh, yeah. I don’t know what came over me.”

 

The priest couldn’t believe the fondness he had for this man. “Rest. I’ll lay with you a bit, then take watch.”

 

Hadrian grunted in agreement, settling under the covers. He slept on his back like a soldier, one hand resting on his stomach. Alyosha moved next to him, propping his head up with one hand. In the quiet filled with only the sound of their breathing and the crackling of the dying fire, he studied the darkness beyond their camp.

 

Alyosha was always amazed by how easily two bodies fit together. He had slept with countless others over the decades, lovers or not, and regardless of their respective shapes, they never had trouble finding a place where they comfortably slotted together. Alyosha’s palm rested perfectly in the dip of Hadrian’s hip, and he idly stroked a small scar there with his thumb. Hadrian shifted his legs once, but otherwise didn’t move, falling quickly to sleep.

 

It was difficult to leave the bliss of warmth and skin on skin, but Alyosha eventually slid carefully away, donning his vestments once more. Even with the layers, it was still cold, and it took several moments to realize that his cloak was trapped under their bedrolls, currently occupied by Hadrian. The priest was puzzling how to quietly feed and stoke the fire again, but then he saw the silvery reflection of Hadrian’s cloak in a heap next to their bags.

 

Alyosha was, of course, aware of the true story of the strange, shapeshifting mantle, but he wasn’t in the state to refuse the option given to him. The cloth was light, but wrapped around him, he felt again the soft weight of fur.

 

Hadrian’s circumstances were indeed far outside any Alyosha had experienced before. The priest felt uneasy thinking about the events of the past few years. What times were they living in that the Sun did not rise and old gods were stirring? Alyosha didn’t know.

 

Before he felt the grip of fear tighten too much, though, he looked down at the sleeping form of Hadrian. In the darkness, with faint orange glow of the fire shining on one side of his face and the silvery light of Bri on the other, his calm expression seemed carved out of obsidian. He was quite beautiful, but even more than that, he had spoken to his God’s enemy, had experienced aching doubt, and still continued onward, for his people and for his Lord.

 

And, just as Alyosha told the Paladin that he needn't take this journey on alone, so Alyosha knew the same applied to him. Soon, they would reach the tower, and the other three of their company would arrive, too. And, until then, the two men of Samothes had each other to hang onto for the next Sunless day.


End file.
